


A Few Steps Forward

by plutonianshores



Series: No Sweeter Agony [3]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: (mostly), Canon Era, Fluff, M/M, Rape Recovery, discussion of past rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 05:19:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4209444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plutonianshores/pseuds/plutonianshores
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Enjolras continues to recover, he and Combeferre begin to explore the possibilities of their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Few Steps Forward

Enjolras had thought about romance, perhaps more than idly, before the attack. He’d decided that it would be foolish to pursue it, especially as the person he found himself dwelling on was one of his closest friends. He knew that no one would look poorly upon him for it—there were few among Les Amis who had not taken a mistress, or occasionally taken each other. However, he couldn’t shake the worry that Combeferre wouldn’t take kindly to his feelings. Even if he simply didn’t return Enjolras’s desires, it could destroy everything they already had between them.

The attack had pushed all such thoughts from his mind, and he’d wondered if it had stolen any chance he’d had of taking a lover. Then the discussion, and the kiss, had come, and it had been more than he’d dreamed possible.

He was glad that he had someone to fall asleep next to, and wake up beside. He was glad that he had someone to hold him when he woke up screaming. After all that had happened, Enjolras had never thought he’d be able to say this, but he was glad for the little noises Combeferre made when they kissed, the way his chest felt under Enjolras’s hand, the way his face flushed when Enjolras touched him.

Combeferre talked near constantly when they kissed. It had bothered Enjolras the first few nights they’d spent together--it had seemed to him that the whispers of _Was that all right?_ and _Can I touch you?_ were just more signs that Combeferre thought him irreparably broken, too damaged even to know what he wanted. When Combeferre realized he’d upset him, he changed what he said, but he didn’t stop talking. He traded his questions for a litany of _I love you_ s and _You’re beautifuls_ and _God, that’s good_ s, and Enjolras came to realize that Combeferre _talked_. A strange realization—nothing he said during the day was without a purpose—but it was a trait that Enjolras found endearing.

Combeferre blushed very prettily when he mentioned it, which added to the appeal. He apologized the first time Enjolras brought it up, but Enjolras quickly countered him.

“No, it’s wonderful. I love listening to you.” He sat himself down on Combeferre’s lap, resting a hand on the back of his neck. “You say some very interesting things.”

After that, Combeferre no longer tried to stifle his words during their time together, and Enjolras only very occasionally teased him about what he said.

One night, with Enjolras’s lips against his throat and hand around his cock, Combeferre murmured, “God, fuck me!” Then he tensed, his face going even redder than it had been before.

It would be better, Enjolras decided, to ignore his comment for now. Combeferre would be distraught if he thought Enjolras had heard what he’d said. There was a tacit agreement between them not to discuss certain types of sex--it had taken a long while for even kissing to feel safe for Enjolras, and Combeferre was loathe to hurt him by suggesting something he wasn’t ready for. Normally, this sort of concern would rankle, but they’d had enough bad nights that Enjolras knew he couldn’t bear to see Combeferre’s face after Enjolras had been sent into a panic by a misplaced hand or a poorly-chosen word.

So Enjolras resolved to continue kissing Combeferre and put the thought of fucking him out of his mind—something that proved easier said than done. Every gasp, every tensing or relaxing of Combeferre’s muscles, every brush of skin against skin only reminded Enjolras of the thoughts he was trying to push away. He’d need to talk to Combeferre about this in the morning. (It would be rude to bring it up now, and Enjolras wasn’t sure he could focus in the face of what Combeferre was doing with his hands.)

He woke up with Combeferre’s words still in his mind, and as they sat in bed together (as they usually did before leaving to begin their days), Enjolras asked, “Was your request last night sincere?”

Combeferre smiled sheepishly. “I thought you hadn’t heard.”

“You were clearly embarrassed; I didn’t want to ruin the mood. Although it is an intriguing proposition.”

“I’ve told you, what we have is enough. It’s more than enough. Just waking up with you beside me would be enough to make me the happiest man in the world, Enjolras.”

“But if I wanted to, as you put it, fuck you, you wouldn’t say no?” When Combeferre began once again to protest, Enjolras shushed him. “Let’s take it as a given that I don’t have any objections.”

“As long as you enjoyed yourself, I’m sure it would be more than enjoyable for me.” The shade of red Combeferre’s face went and the way he struggled to speak were a testament to the truth of his statement.

“And you wouldn’t prefer it the other way around?” _You’re not just sparing me that, out of some desire to protect me?_ The words went unspoken, but the meaning was clear.

Combeferre took a moment to compose himself. By the time he began to speak, Enjolras wouldn’t have believed how flustered he’d been mere minutes before, had he not witnessed it himself. “My previous experience suggests I would prefer it if you were the one to take me.”

“Previous experience?” Now it was Enjolras’s turn to blush. He couldn’t help but picture those experiences: Combeferre on his back, lips parted in pleasure and face tinged red like it was when Enjolras kissed him, hands grasping at the man above him.

Combeferre took his reaction for jealousy rather than lust. “You didn’t think I spent all of my time before the night we first kissed chastely pining for you, did you?

“It would be rather hypocritical of me to expect chastity, but I must admit I had expected you to be a bit less experienced.”

Combeferre frowned at his comment, but he knew Enjolras too well to rebuke him. “I think you’ll find that my knowledge can be used to your advantage.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Enjolras leaned in to kiss him, and Combeferre nudged him away with a laugh.

“I do have other things to do with my day than laze away in bed with you.” He gave Enjolras a soft kiss in return, and stood up. “Shall we meet again tonight?”

“I eagerly await it.”

Enjolras had meant that last comment as a joke, but the longer the day went on, the more true it rang. He found himself distracted by the thought of what would be waiting for him when he got home, his memory of Combeferre’s excited blush last night. He cut his plans off early, knowing that he’d most likely get home to an empty house (Combeferre had class that evening), only to find the door unlocked and Combeferre waiting for him in the bedroom.

Enjolras practically tackled him, and Combeferre laughed.

“Happy to see me?”

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” Enjolras murmured between kisses to Combeferre’s neck. “Why are you still wearing so many clothes?”

“You’re not any less dressed.”

“And I’ve just arrived from a meeting. What excuse do you have?”

Combeferre just laughed again, and pressed a kiss to the top of Enjolras’s head. “Patience is a virtue, my friend.”

“You’ve made me wait long enough.”

He grinned. “I thought you wanted me to teach you how this is meant to go.”

“Indeed, but you don’t need to teach me about foreplay.”

“Well, then, let’s get down to business.” Combeferre pulled away, turning to rummage through his nightstand. “You’ll need to undress, you know.”

“I’d assumed as much.” Enjolras threw off his clothes, Combeferre did the same, and they found themselves seated across from each other on the bed, stark naked. The dispassionate nature of their actions, so at odds with how they’d undressed last night, only served to increase Enjolras’s anticipation, in ways that weren’t entirely positive.

It was foolish to feel nervous, Enjolras told himself. This was hardly more than they’d done before. Still, he found himself terrified that he’d do something to offend Combeferre, or that he wasn’t as prepared to handle this as he’d thought. (It infuriated him that this was something he _had_ to worry about, that the marks that those men left on him lingered long after they’d likely forgotten his face.)

“Are you all right?” Combeferre laid a hand on his arm.

“I was only thinking. So, how do we begin?”

Combeferre took Enjolras’s hand in his, slicking his fingers. “I assumed you’d want to prepare me.”

Enjolras kissed him, guiding him onto his back. Combeferre let out a happy little gasp when Enjolras’s fingers breached him, and he soon figured out how to touch him to make him repeat those gasps.

Now that they’d begun, Enjolras found himself in no rush to drive things forward. It was pleasant enough to feel himself inside Combeferre, to hear his friend’s moans. Combeferre, however, seemed to mind the wait. He was certainly pleased by Enjolras’s actions (that much was clearly evident), but with each minute that passed, he grew more frustrated.

Finally, he spoke, voice hoarse with pleasure. “Enjolras, you know I’ll let you take however much time you need, but we _did_ have a plan for the night—”

Enjolras grinned. “I was only waiting for you to ask.”

“Bastard,” Combeferre muttered, cutting off with a hiss as Enjolras entered him.

“Is that all right?”

“God, don’t stop!” Combeferre took a breath, and then clasped Enjolras’s hand in his. “This is wonderful, and I would very much like you to continue fucking me if you feel comfortable doing so.”

“How could I deny such a polite request?” But then Combeferre drew in a ragged breath, and Enjolras had to pause. It shouldn’t have been a hardship to make love to Combeferre, and it infuriated Enjolras that he had to fight back the panic that the sound of his breathing could induce. They loved each other, they cared about each other, and they would never, never hurt each other.

Combeferre stilled as well. “Enjolras, are you all right?”

“Only memories.” He laughed. “This is hardly an opportune time for a conversation.”

He put a hand on Enjolras’s chest. “If you can’t do this—”

“Then I’ll tell you. And if you need me to stop, then tell me. But if you have no objections, would you let me finish the job?”

He laughed. “Finish? We’ve hardly started!”

“Through no fault of my own.” A decisive thrust tore a moan from Combeferre. “You’ll allow me to continue?”

“God, Enjolras!”

He took the comment as a yes. Combeferre was more beautiful than he’d expected, spread out beneath him, biting at his lip and grasping Enjolras’s side. Enjolras was determined to keep his mind here, and as Combeferre began to whimper and stroke at his cock, that became less and less difficult.

Enjolras tapped Combeferre’s hand away and took hold of his cock. Through the nights they’d spent together, he’d learned exactly how to touch Combeferre to take him apart. It was a bit more difficult now that he had to focus on both his hands and the thrust of his hips, but Enjolras soon found a rhythm.

For the first time, Combeferre stopped talking. Enjolras would have teased him for it, but he found himself unable to speak as well. Combeferre was beautiful, and this was wonderful, and oh, he could hardly breathe for pleasure. He didn’t know how long he could last before he spent, but it seemed a shame to cut his partner’s pleasure short. Enjolras rededicated himself to the task at hand, letting his own satisfaction fade to a pleasant fog in the back of his mind.

In the end, a thumb playing over the head of his cock and a harsh thrust was what it took to bring Combeferre to release. Enjolras bent to kiss him, and began to slow his movements.

Combeferre took a moment to catch his breath, placing his hand on Enjolras’s chest. “I would have you finish.”

“Of course.” It didn’t take long after that for Enjolras to finish as well; Combeferre caught his gasp in a kiss. They lay together on the bed, limbs entangled and breath mingling.

“Next time,” Enjolras whispered, “you’re going to show me what that feels like.”


End file.
